Going Completely Numb
by xxBrokenxxAngelxx
Summary: Alone and hidden from the wizarding world, Draco thinks he can cope. Harry Potter on the other hand tries to handle the guilt of so many deaths after the final war. When they find each other, will they help the other? Or get pushed over the edge?
1. What Are You Doing Here?

Going Completely Numb

A/N: I'd promised myself I'd never write a slash fic. Haha, I'm breaking it right here. This came to me one night staring at the wall, bored and not feeling like sleeping. It doesn't sound as good as it did in my head, but I hope you guys'll like it. I can't take flames, so please don't send them. Constructive Criticism is okay, but no flames. Why waste your time on reviewing on a fic you hate?

I hope I get at least three reviews. That would probably make my day. I'm sorry if you hate it. I may not be an awesome writer, and I know it, but you don't have to remind me.

Oh yes, warnings; Um, Suicidal Thoughts, MAYBE, Drugs..MAYBE, Slash?...DEFINITELY.. Song Lyrics…SOMETIMES…Maybe if anything else happens I'll add it to the fore coming updates. If there are any. Oh yeah, and coarse language..

Disclaimer: What are you guys thinking? That JKR had gone completely INSANE? I'm not her!

Summary: It's all over. For both Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Draco has no one now, and no one needs Harry as much as they did before. People take the boy who lived forgranted now, and everyone's forgotten about Draco Malfoy. Well most of them. Emotionless and finding themselves in front of each other one day, will they be able to help each other or only end up driving the other to go spiralling down into depths of despair?

Chapter One: I tried to get away from everything…I couldn't get away from you.

"Malfoy, what the-is that you?" Harry stammered, eyes wide as he stared at the battered, pale, taller and smoking blonde who leaned against the wall, staring at Harry Potter as if he were a ghost.

Finally the cigarette slipped from Draco Malfoy's slender fingers and hit the ground, going out. He seemed to be slowly getting over the shock and fear settling in. Along with oddly enough anger.

"I never thought anyone would find me here, but of course you had to, right?" Draco scoffed, eyes still wide. He looked quickly both sides before locking his eyes back on Harry's emerald ones. "And now what, you're going to turn me in or something? Tell all your auror friends?" Draco knew his voice was rising, but he didn't know how to control it. Panic was rising at an alarming level in his mind, blanking out all his thoughts.

Harry on the other hand was confused if anything. Here he was, standing in front of Draco Malfoy, in front of a bar, in the middle of a nearly desolated part of the Wizarding World, having come here to get away from everything. And he ends up meeting a rival who'd run away nearly two years ago after attempting a murder on his headmaster.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked, unconsciously mimicking Draco's actions looking down the road both sides.

Draco snorted, and put his hand into his pocket, pulling out another cigarette and then pulling out a lighter and lighting it. He put it back to his lips and closed his eyes, exhaling. He was no longer leaning against the wall, but standing straight, ready to run if needed.

"The real question is why the Boy Who Lived, Harry Fucking Potter is here in this abandoned village, instead of out there gathering up all the glory of defeating Lord Voldemort?" Draco asked sceptically. Harry realized Draco was backing away from the other boy, trying to get as far as he could.

"Why are you still in hiding, Malfoy?" Harry asked, realizing all the anger that he'd had before was all gone now. He never felt much now. After killing that many people…what was there left to feel?

Draco looked surprised at this question, before taking inhaling some more of the cigar and then letting it out in a puff of air in Harry's face. There was bitterness in his cold grey eyes.

"Because I attempted to kill an important man, and it's partly my fault, plus in the process of killing that special person, I nearly killed two other people."

"That was so long ago though. Barely anyone remembers it." Harry didn't know why he was saying this. Maybe it was because the boy he was seeing right now looked so…different and…dead then the Draco Malfoy he once knew.

"They will when I come back."

"I'm Minister Of Magic."

"Good for you." Draco's eyes darkened the slightest. "Did you expect…respect or something, Potter?"

"No." Harry stared at the cigarette the other boy held in his right hand. "Did you know those are horrible for you?"

"It's only been a year Potter. Are my parents dead?" The last word came out in a croak, and Harry's eyes snapped up to the other boys. He blinked and then closed his eyes. He nodded.

When he opened his eyes he jumped foreword and grabbed the other boy's wrist, in fear that he would faint. Instead he fell back against the wall and fell to the floor, putting the cigar to his lips again and letting out a puff of smoke. His skin was frighteningly pale now. Harry came to the ground as well, looking almost anxiously at the other boy.

"Oh." His voice was indifferent though. Harry suddenly let go of the other boy's wrist as if electrified. Draco didn't seem to have noticed. He had a faraway look in his grey eyes, staring blankly over Harry's shoulder. He shifted his gaze, his eyes still void of any emotion to Harry's. "Did you kill them?"

Harry felt fire in his throat, blocking him from letting out noise. He nodded. Suddenly he opened his mouth and everything came out pouring. "Your father deserved it, the bastard. He tried to kill Ginny, and Hermione and-I killed him. And he deserved it. Your mother didn't. She was nice. Really. But she killed herself. I didn't. I didn't want to kill anyone but they all deserved it, god damnit!" Harry shouted, getting back up to his feet.

Draco looked impassively up at Harry. "My mom committed suicide?"

"She wouldn't have, had you been there." Harry's tone was accusing.

"So I killed her?" There was pain in his voice now.

Harry was speechless. He hated the look on the blonde's face now. It looked so…desperate with nothing to live for.

"Oh cheer up Malfoy, you're rich now." Harry didn't even know why he'd said it. Why was he feeling so…almost normal around the other boy? Maybe because Draco was more screwed up then he was.

"Wha-" Draco looked up at Harry stunned. "H-How could yo-you say that?" Draco's voice had broken now. He took another breath from the cigar, and Harry, before he knew what he was doing, had grabbed the other boy up by his collar and slapped the cigar from his fingers using his other hands. Draco stared at it.

Harry let go of it and stared at it as well.

"That's two, Potter. You owe me two."

"You dropped the first one on your own."

"Get out. This is my home." Draco raised his eyes to the dry green ones. He realized the usual fire was out now. Just mild…interest?

"You live on the streets?"

"I work in the bar, and I live in that inn." Draco gestured half heartedly over his shoulder at a tattered building.

"I'll treat you with a drink."

"What?" Draco couldn't believe his ears.

"It's the least I can do for killing your dad, now isn't it?" Harry said with slight humour in his tone.

"Whatever." Draco opened the door and held it for the boy who lived, still wondering on whether this was really happening or not.

**I like reviews. They make me feel better about myself. First slash fic ever. Have strangely gotten addicted to them. Trying to make one. **


	2. A Mild Conversation Over a Drink

Oh yes, warnings; Um, Suicidal Thoughts, MAYBE, Drugs..MAYBE, Slash?...DEFINITELY…but not immediately... Song Lyrics…SOMETIMES…Maybe if anything else happens I'll add it to the fore coming updates. If there are any. Oh yeah, and coarse language..

Disclaimer: It ain't mine.

Summary: It's all over. For both Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Draco has no one now, and no one needs Harry as much as they did before. People take the boy who lived forgranted now, and everyone's forgotten about Draco Malfoy. Well most of them. Emotionless and finding themselves in front of each other one day, will they be able to help each other or only end up driving the other to go spiralling down into depths of despair?

A/N: Ahhh! I can't believe I got reviews! You guys are way too awesome to be real! I didn't really think I'd get any. But wow! I love you guys! I didn't really like this chapter, at least not the beginning, but I wanted all this stuff to get out of the way so I can get back to the better stuff. I was listening to Red Flag by Billy Talent while writing this. It was funny.

**Lots of love and thanks and appreciation to: ****mumimeanjudy****, SilverShadow08, ****darkshadowarchfiend****, Kate, ****draco8448**

And, (smiles) I don't plan on stopping the updates until this has completely finished. ) Ooh yes, and you can expect daily updates but the longest it would probably take is every other day.

Chapter Two: A Mild Conversation Over a Drink.

Neither one of them said a thing. Draco held the beer up to his lips and sipped a bit, before bringing it down back on the table. Harry simple stared at the contents in his glass.

"Are you going to tell everyone?" Harry noticed Draco's voice was hoarse.

"Why?" Harry finally picked up the glass and held it to his lips, waiting for a reply.

"Potter…why are you here?" Draco asked in a broken voice, startling Harry. He lowered the glass without swallowing even a bit, and stared at Draco.

"I wanted to get away." The conversation was so mild. As if they had just met. Almost.

"From what? Fame, honour, and riches?" Serene sarcasm in his tone.

"Fame, honour and riches over killing dozens of people." There was sudden intense rage flashing in those green eyes. But Draco wondered if he'd imagined it as it vanished the next second, replaced by that calm not caring look. He looked down at Harry's hands. They were clutching the handle of the beer glass pretty hard, Draco told from the white knuckles.

"Who died?" The words fell from Draco's mouth, and he barely knew he'd said them until a moment after.

"Huh-what?" Harry looked confused at the sudden change of conversation.

"You know I wasn't there, right?" Draco paused and Harry opened his mouth when Draco continued in an odd tone. "No matter how much the mark hurt, I didn't go." Draco shot his eyes up to Harry's, suddenly oddly shiny. "The mark stung Potter. It bled. I wanted to cut it off me. " Draco said darkly, staring back down at the drink he held in his hands.

"Why'd you ge-oh. Never mind." Harry stared at the foamy drink. Well actually most of the foam had disappeared by now.

Draco laughed humourlessly. "Yes, 'oh never mind'. My father would rather have had me dead then…then a traitor." His tone had gone back to being dead panned.

"Sorry."

"For what?" Draco raised his eyes slightly.

"That your life sucks so much." The corners of Draco's lips twitched slightly at Harry's plain but true words.

"Back at you, Potter."

They fell into silence.

"You folks, we're closing down now-Oh Merlin! You're Harry Potter aren't you?" The bartender now stood in front of the table, staring at Harry with wide eyes, and cloth hanging uselessly in his hand. He had dark brown hair and looked barely two years above them both. And beautiful dark blue eyes.

Draco pushed his chair back and got to his feet. He whipped around and was out the door in a second. It slammed shut behind him.

**HARRY'S POV**

Harry Potter found himself staring after the blonde who had so abruptly just left the building. Then he looked up at the awfully young bartender, who was still staring at him in wonder, wordlessly.

"What's…up with him?" Harry managed, turning his head the other way and looking through the glass wall at the fair-haired boy who had brought out a cigarette again, and now lighting it and putting it to his pale lips.

"Oh him, Travis, don't mind him. He's always been bitter whenever Harry Po-I mean _you_ have been brought up. I don't know if it's hate or passion." The bartender said jokingly. Harry looked harshly up at the bartender. _Travis? _

"Oh." Harry started to get up. He pulled a couple sickles from his robes and laid them down on the table.

"So what are you doing in this neck of the woods? If you catch my drift, I mean." The bartender said conversationally.

"Um…what?" Harry shook his head and tried to replay the words over in his cluttered mind. For some reason he couldn't focus on anything but the fact that it had started to rain outside and Draco Malfoy, his recent arch nemesis was getting drenched.

"Ah nothing. Don't let 'im get to you, Mr. Potter. He's a little, I don't know, obsessed with you I guess. He talks about you as if he went to the same school as you. Not nice things though." Harry crossed his arms and looked back at the bartender.

"Oh." _Travis. He'd named himself Travis? He really didn't want to be found._

"I reckon you should start heading home, Mr. Potter. It's really starting to pour out there. Hope to see you again." The bartender said, smiling bracingly and turning around and going back to the bar.

Harry looked over at him, and then went to the door, putting his hand on the door, starting to push it forwards. He looked over his shoulder and the bartender waved at him. "I didn't catch your name, sir." He found himself saying.

"Wow, _the _Harry Potter wants to know my name." The guy said playfully. "Matthew. Trav calls me Matt though."

"I'll be back, promise." Were Harry's last words before walking through the door to catch up to the departing Draco Malfoy.

**DRACO'S POV**

Draco Malfoy was cold. And shivering. And he wanted more then anything to go back to his house and kill himself. Or go to sleep. Whichever more he felt like.

Wait, was he hearing someone calling his name. Oh god, he hoped the boy who lived wasn't chasing after him.

"Malfoy! Malfoy!" Oh god, he was! Why did the gods hate him so? He tried to walk faster. What was he thinking, taking a drink with the Minister of Magic? He took another drag from his cigarette before he dropped it and stepped on it, before spinning around and staring fiercely at the dark haired boy. He found himself staring into a pool of emerald.

Draco pulled back, and backed away. Too close for comfort. "Stop following me! What do you want from my life?" Draco shouted loudly, exasperated.

"What happened to you over there?" Harry asked. Stop thinking Harry. Are you insane? IT'S POTTER!

"Listen, I've got to go home and…just leave. I don't know what today was, but I don't exist. My name is Travis. Travis Johnson." Draco was breathing heavily, glaring daggers into Potter's eyes. He felt his long blonde hair stick to his face from the rain. The drops of water were slipping down his face as if they were tears.

"Creative." Harry muttered under his breath. His usually messy hair was flat, and his eyes were back to being impassive.

"But you're going to mess all that up, aren't you! Did you tell Matt my name? Huh?"

"No." Potter watched on as someone he'd always known never to completely lose his composure lost it right then and there.

"You're fucking with things you don't understand, Potter! I understand you have had it hard, but you've always had friends you could depend on, people who loved you, right then and there! What, aren't you married to Weasel yet?" Draco said this with most anger, fury flashing in his silver eyes. His fists were clenched, his voice louder by the word.

"You sound jealous." Potter said quietly. Draco got paler, but Potter didn't notice. Who did nowadays? It wasn't much possible to the naked eye to lose so much blood in your skin.

"Wha-what are you talking about?"

"Do you miss your friends, Malfoy?" Potter asked, looking up at Draco helplessly. Then it clicked. Harry Potter pitied him. He pitied him. He thought Draco wanted someone to love. Pansy. Blaise.

Those double faced morons were, to Harry Potter, his best friends. Draco realized he was still talking and tried to pay attention.

"-three kids and a really big house. Pansy on the other hand hasn't still married, and people think she's looking for the right one, who I'm thinking she hopes is you."

Draco blinked. Not even.

"Listen, why don't you go back to your family and friends, and leave me alone? You know what; I don't care if you start coming here, or even live here, but just…don't talk to me. Please." Draco hated that he sounded as if he were begging.

"You're really fucked up, aren't you?" Potter looked at Draco with new interest.

"Bye." Draco turned around and shoved his hands in his pockets, lowering his head, feeling colder then he had since it'd started raining.

**Please Review. For some reason it makes me write faster!  It keeps me motivated!**


	3. Stop My Thoughts

Warnings: I don't really know what'll be in it so far. I hope all the junk I like will be in it, you know the good stuff, drugs, self mutilation, piercings (though I'm pretty sure I'll struggle putting that in), depressing crap, and song lyrics. But that'll be hard. So don't get too excited. I don't want to overdo all the…emoness.

What I'm SURE will be in it, and has been in it so far is, um the coarse language and I'm pretty much going for implied SLASH! Okay, so that's what you get when you search for a DRACO and HARRY ANGST M rated fic! (smiles happily)

Next update will come in…10 reviews? (batters eyes) Ugh this update did NOT come out the way I wanted it to come out, seeing as I thought up everything last night dreaming so it's all gone now. Ugh, it's depressing. Okay, mopey emo stuff come up at the end. This was originally longer, but I shortened it due to the shortage of reviews. I got sorta depressed and wondered why I was writing this if no one read it.

I was crying through some of this chapter. Dunno why.

Disclaimer: Do I write like JKR to you? Cool if I do..Hehe, I'm up to Chapter 11 now and I love how it's going…

Chapter Three: Stop My Thoughts

**DRACO'S POV**

Draco's bedroom was the opposite of what he'd grown up in. You couldn't walk from one end of the room to the other without stepping on at least five things. I guess you could blame it on the fact that he had a roommate. Though Matt was rather neat.

But so had Draco been. Until he decided that everything that reminded him of his former life _had_ to go. Everything. He hadn't succeeded, but he'd tried in some cases and hadn't failed.

So here he lay, on top of his large cluttered bed, staring at the ceiling, a cigarette in one hand, his shirt crumpled up in a ball in his other hand. The music pounding in the room so loudly he felt the bed vibrating underneath him. He giggled a bit. Vibrating.

The band on the radio was screaming. He didn't understand a thing the guys were saying. Didn't matter. But he sorta understood why Mattie listened to this music so much now. It blared out all your thoughts. Didn't it?

He put the cigarette back to his lips and then let it fall back to hanging over the bed. He exhaled, and breathed in the smell of the cigar. He'd become oddly addicted to the muggle smoke thing. It was so soothing. He knew Matt would yell once he returned to the room. It must be filled with the fumes. Maybe he should try drugs. He once heard you couldn't smell a particular type from working at the bar.

Cocaine, the guy had called it. It was supposed to be a sort of muggle powder substance that gave you a high.

He stared blankly at the ceiling. What had happened today? Had he really met Potter, or had his imagination got away from him? …How long could he go without blinking?

He was 17 now. Only a year. But he was of age now. Wasn't he? He barely remembered. He barely used his wand now. Well, sometimes.

"Drake?" The door opened, and a figure stood in the doorway. Draco raised his head slightly and noticed Matt, eyes slits, arms crossed, and shouting over the music. "What have I told you about smoking in the house?"

Matt was 20. He was a beautiful guy, honest and sweet. But rough when it came to stuff like this.

Draco waved at the radio with his hand, the volume lowering considerably. "It's raining. And don't call me drake. Last time I checked it was a muggle term for goose or duck or something."

"It's duck, Dray, and the house stinks. Get out."

"So hospitable." Draco grumbled, sitting up and taking another drag from the cigar, before dropping it on the ground and putting it out.

"Don't put it out on the floor, Dray! And what's wrong with you?" The tone softened a bit. The slim and slightly taller boy walked up to Draco and sat down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I feel like crap." Draco stated, and then got up, shrugging off Matt and searching through the pockets of the pants he'd worn that day for a pack of cigarettes.

"You're wearing my boxers." Matt said, and Draco heard the amusement in Matt's tone.

Finally grabbing the pack of cigarettes, which had fallen out, he put on a pair of black pants and a black shirt. He started towards the door.

"I'm going out to make you feel better and smoke outside." Draco said, pulling out a cigar from the pack, and putting it back into his pocket. "I'm running out." He muttered to himself, and started searching for his lighter.

"You're going to kill yourself." Matt said from behind him, and Draco paused, turning around in the doorway and giving Matt a dubious look.

"No. Not yet." Draco said, smiling a bit sourly.

"You're going through a pack a day." Matt was frowning, a glimmer of something hinting concern in his deep blue eyes. Draco groaned before returning to his search for his lighter.

"You sound like my mother."

"I care about you."

"Why? Because if I die from this you won't have someone to help you out at the bar?" Draco grinned at Matt. He patted his pockets one more time, ignoring the hurt look on Matt's face. "Where's my lighter?"

"Summoned it away from you when you weren't looking." Matt said in a smug voice. Draco blinked before raising his eyes up to Matt, incredulous.

"_What?_" Draco ran his hands over his face. "Send them, Matt."

"No." Matt used the wand he'd been holding in his right hand and waved it at the blue lighter he held in his other hand and it disappeared. Draco shoved the cigar back into his pocket and stomped to Matt.

"Matt, this isn't funny." Draco sneered, feeling his anger raise a bit a long with his voice. "Give me back the lighter I _paid_ for."

"No." Matt said shortly, getting up and pushing past Draco to his own side of the room. He started to take off his shirt when he felt the side his head slam against the wall and his eyes begin to water. Then his hand was twisted behind him painfully, and Draco's lips were at his ear.

"Just send them. Okay?" His voice had a dangerous tremble in them, as if drifting from the thin line of anger and murder. Matt groaned and tried to pull away from his best friend.

"Listen, my dad'll be here in a week and he'll kill you when he finds out you've killed his son. Which he left in charge and so graciously gave you a room to live in." Matt said in a broken voice, his head throbbing.

"'Matt!" Draco let go of Matt and turned him roughly around using his shoulders. "I'm not joking!" Grey met dark blue and both of them were hard.

"Me neither. Now stop it, Draco. Go to sleep or something." Matt said sternly but calmly. He noted that Draco was either nearly in tears or ready to blow up. Draco didn't want to do anything he'd regret though, so he closed his eyes, breathed in a bit, and opened them to see a slightly apprehensive but standing firm Matt.

"I hate you so much right now." Draco said darkly, and Matt knew that he actually meant it at that moment. Matt didn't say anything though, and tried to remember that Draco would be worse tomorrow. He watched as Draco turned around stiffly, pulled off his pants and shirt and threw them to a side.

Matt started to do the same, watching his friend carefully. He watched as Draco leaned against the wall beside the dresser for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut. Matt didn't know the effects of withdrawal and was sure that it wouldn't happen so soon. Draco didn't smoke _that_ often. Did he?

Draco opened his eyes and caught Matt staring at him. He averted his gaze and went to the bed, throwing himself on it, and staring up vacantly at the ceiling. The volume on the playing radio went up louder and Matt smiled. He recognized the artist as Senses Fail, the song being Let It Enfold You.

Now in his boxers, just like the other boy, Matt started to return to his bed on the other side of the room when he turned around and slowly started towards Draco's bed. His eyes were shut now, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white. He sat down, swung his feet over on the bed, and lay on it, silent beside Draco.

"He looked surprised when I called you Travis. Stunned even." Matt finally said, trying not to sound too loud.

The volume of the radio lowered to a small buzz. Worry clouding his mind a bit, Travis turned to face Draco, leaning on his elbow. Draco opened his eyes and looked up at Travis. They looked the same way as they had earlier that morning. The same way they'd looked when Travis had found him. Alone, desperate, and wanting death.

"What happened?" Matt breathed, searching the silver eyes of the other being for something that reflected Draco's rare self-righteousness. Draco pushed himself up, using his palms to press down against the bed. Matt pulled back and watched as Draco brought his knees to his chest and locked his arms around them, resting his chins on his knees.

"We talked." Draco's voice came out dry. Impassive. Nothing that showed the something that was filling up in his silver eyes.

"About?" Matt shifted closer to Draco and crossed his legs, looking expectantly and apprehensively at the other boy.

"My parents' death." Draco said lightly. Matt froze, his mind slowly shutting down. Oh no. Not to Draco. Oh god.

"How?" Matt croaked, finding his voice.

"Well, Harry fucking Potter killed my dad, so that's all okay. I mean, the bastard probably had it coming, as Potter told me. No one's fault but his own." Draco paused, his breath hitching a bit.

"Dray..?" Matt put his hand on the other boy's back, rubbing it soothingly. Draco didn't seem to notice.

"My mother's death on the other hand. That was-" Draco's words broke, and so did his composure, tears spilling and Matt noticed them rolling down his pale cheeks. Draco put his face in his knees, and his shoulders shook from trying to keep his sobs silent.

Matt's heart broke, and he put his arm around Draco, pulling the younger boy against him. "Th-That was all my fault." Draco gasped, and Matt put both his arms around the crying boy, going to his knees.

"That's not true." Matt found himself saying, trying so badly to make the other boy feel better.

Draco pulled away from Matt, and went over to the other edge of the bed, furiously wiping tears from his face, and sitting letting his feet land on the floor. "You wouldn't know, would you?" He barked through his tears.

Hurt, Matt looked helplessly on from his side of the bed as Draco tore himself apart inside. "I wasn't there for her when she needed me. She killed herself, Matt!" Draco said the last four words in a quick breath, and cried harder, trying to stop the tears with his palms. Matt's throat went dry. Suicide brought its dark self up again in his life, Matt thought inexplicably.

"That's not your fault; you didn't know." Matt said meaningfully. He knew that Draco was dying to go outside and take a drag from his smoke. But he felt it would be healthier to talk it out instead of bottling it up.

"I should have known!" Draco cried out, turning his head and looking at Matt, his eyes shining, his face tearstained.

"You couldn't have. Dray, you were on the run." Matt said softly, moving over and sitting beside Draco, looking at him sympathetically.

"I shouldn't have been." Draco muttered.

"I'm sorry."

"She was a good mother. Not the greatest, but she loved me, and that was all a kid needed. She wanted me to be safe, and yeah she was a bit over protective, but in the end she did love me. A lot." Draco sniffed. "I killed her, Matt." Draco said before tearing up again. "I-I don't de-deserve to live!" Draco started to hiccup.

"Shut up, you prat, yes you do." Matt scolded, again putting his arm around the other boy, this time around his waist.

"I have no one that cares about me anymore."

"I care about you, you idiot." Matt said immediately. "What the hell did Potter tell you?"

"Just the truth." Draco mumbled, resting his head on Matt's shoulder. There were still tears slipping down his face but he made no move to wipe them away. "She wouldn't have died, had I been there. I killed her."

"Don't go down that road. Blame yourself, and I'll be the one killing." Matt said shortly. Draco hiccupped.

"I don't want to think, Matt." Draco looked at Matt bleakly. Gently the brunette put a hand on the side of Draco's head and brought it down to his lap, then pulled his other legs up on the bed so that Draco was using his lap as a pillow. He rested one hand on Draco's pale cheek and used the other to gently run through Draco's platinum golden hair.

"I bumped into him on the way back. He looked pissed and confused. Something else too.."

Draco grunted, breathing in less ragged breaths that he had a bit ago. "Sorry for attacking you."

"Relax, hon." Matt whispered, looking sadly into Draco's beautiful but distressed face. How much did it take to gain fate's approval to go through life carefree?

"Thanks." Draco murmured before letting himself go.

**HARRY'S POV**

"Harry James Potter, where have you been?" A voice broke through Harry's thoughts as he opened the door and walked into his house, shutting it behind him. Well, it was more of a mansion then a house. But that's probably what the Minister of Magic should have expected.

"Out." Harry mumbled, walking past the redhead and up the stairs, ready to drop into his bed.

"Harry, wait a minute!" Ginny called out, following him up the stairs. "What's wrong?" She asked, now on the same steps as he was, and still going up.

"I'm tired, leave me alone." Harry said apathetically.

"Harry.." Ginny stopped talking as Harry spun around and looked at her exasperatedly.

"Ginny, can't you take a simple instruction?" Harry growled. He knew he sounded cold but at the moment he didn't really want to care. _Why can't you just leave me be?_ He thought irritably.

Ginny looked as if she'd been slapped. She stared at Harry in worry and shock. "What happened to you?" She breathed after a moment.

"NOTHING!" Harry shouted, whipping around and running his hands though his hair, now a tactic he did when he was frustrated or angry. "Does something have to be wrong with me? I'm _sleepy_ can't you see that?" Harry was nearly fuming now. Ginny looked at him confusedly before her face got hard.

"You were seeing someone weren't you?" She asked, wrapping her arms around herself and glaring at Harry.

It took a moment for Harry to get the words through to his head. He looked at Ginny pained now. Oh why did he have to be tested so?

"Ginny.." Harry groaned, putting his hands in his palms. He let his back hit a wall and then sunk to the floor, and pulled his face from his hands, looking up at Ginny hopelessly. There was a reflection of concern in Ginny's beautiful light blue eyes. But then they were hard again. Harry sighed. He hated it when Ginny got like this.

"I can leave if you want me to, okay? We're not even married. I just live in the same house as you." There was sarcasm and betrayal in her voice.

"Ginny, look at me. Do I look like I've been fucking some whore's brains out?" Harry said, looking up at her in dismay. Ginny looked into his tired green eyes for a moment before seating herself beside her lover.

"You look tired enough to be." She grumbled, humour hinted in her words. "But…you don't stink so.." Harry had to smile at this.

"So you actually noticed I was gone?" Harry said playfully, though there was something in his voice that Ginny couldn't recognize.

"How wouldn't I notice?" Ginny laughed a bit. "You blew everyone off today. Hermione and Ron came over while I was asleep and woke me up, asking where you were. It was funny because I thought you were in bed beside me, so I freaked out. We were going to do a search party, but we decided against it."

"Cuz I wasn't worth it?" Harry muttered under his breath rhetorically. Ginny slapped him on the shoulder lightly.

"No, because we knew you could take care of yourself on your own."

"Oh. Right. I mean, of course I could, having defeated the most powerful and feared wizard of all time."

"What's been up with you, Harry? You've been so…kept to yourself and distant lately. It's starting to scare me. Hermione and Ron too." Harry snorted. "It is, Harry. We care about you, sweetie. Hermione says it might be the aftermath of the whole war, and that we should keep an eye on your for some after effects. She said you might be moody and detached. And like you might feel as if you're not needed anymore." _Isn't that true? Isn't that exactly what the prophecy said?_

"Of course." Harry said wryly.

"I, on the other hand, don't believe that." Ginny said in a small voice, and looked down at her feet. Harry shot a look at her.

"You don't?"

"No. I think you just don't love me anymore. Or anyone for that matter." She said in a parched voice, and sniffed. Harry stared at her.

"What? Ginny, no. You're wrong, trust me." Harry passed his hands over his face, and rubbed his temples. "I love you, and you know that." Harry let out a small humourless chuckle. "Actually, don't tell anyone, but I think Hermione's theory might be right." Harry didn't believe a thing he was saying, but he knew it would make Ginny feel better. "I just feel so…piled up with things, and I want to be…normal." Okay, so that was true.

"Aww, poor baby." Ginny said considerately, looking at the worn boy beside her. "I'm sorry for attacking you once you came home. I should have known."

"It's okay, honestly, if you hadn't wondered, I would have thought you didn't care." Harry smiled a little, before pulling himself up and holding out his hand to his girlfriend. Ginny took it and let herself be brought up.

"So, you're not going to tell me where you went?"

"It's unimportant." _And none of your business._

Ginny nodded, understandingly. Harry let go of her hand and walked over to the doors of his bedroom, pushing them open and knowing Ginny was right behind him.

He pulled off his shirt and threw it on the floor. Then he took of his pants and sat down on the bed.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

"No." Harry swung his feet over and rested his head on his hands, over the pillow. He looked up at the sparkling chandelier above him and wondered if it would ever break down and kill the pair of them.

"I don't really feel like sleeping yet. I'll be downstairs watching television. You can come down and join me if you want to." Ginny said bracingly, before turning around and leaving the room, knowing Harry wanted to be alone. The lights lowered as soon as she left the room.

The doors shut behind her, and Harry lay on the large bed in the large room with nothing but his thoughts.

Great.

_Well this was what he wanted, wasn't it? _

He'd seen Draco Malfoy today. Yet he hadn't mentioned it to Ginny Weasley, his fiancée. Why? Because it felt private. Why?

Malfoy had looked really fucked up today. He'd acted it too. Why did this make Harry feel crappy?

Why was Harry thinking in questions?

Nice going, Draco freakin Malfoy, you made the Minister of Magic go lose his colourful marbles. Harry smiled at this. But it slipped off his face. Once Harry'd seen Draco, he'd wanted to fight. He wanted the anger that had been between them all these years to leash out and he wanted blood shed.

Not death, no. Just pain. It would have been fun. But then he'd realized that his anger was melting away. He tried hard to get a rise out of Draco, for him to snap and slap him. But the other boy hadn't done a thing. And now Harry wondered if he fucked up Malfoy even worse now.

Just great.

I'll see him tomorrow then. Harry suddenly thought. He'd fix it. He'd try and be _friends_ with the other boy.

No, that would be insane. He'd try to help the other boy? No, he needed help himself, and that would be hypocritical.

He's sit down beside him, or stand beside him, and do nothing. Sort of stalkerish, but it would create a sort of harmony between them.

No, not a chance.

So screw him, and let him go to the pits. Forget about him. He never mattered to you did he?

No. He didn't. So why are you thinking about him?

Harry groaned, and picked up a pillow, stuffing it in his face and squeezing his eyes shut.

_Minister of Magic committed suicide last night by suffocating self with a pillow._

Heh, he'd love to see that in the news.

He hated his life. Harry threw the pillow away, brought his knees up to his chest and tried hard for sleep to come.

**O.O I KILLED THE CHARACTERS! Welll, I AM killing them. Hehe. Okay, okay, ONE FREAKIN REVIEW? DID THE LAST CHAPTER SUCK THAT MUCH? I didn't even want to put this up, I mean this is pretty long, and I did have SOME fun writing it, BUT for ONE review each chapter! I thought if I waited, I'd get more reviews, but NOOOO, just one! (pouts) God, this is sad. (Goes away to sulk) I mean, do I suck that much at writing? I may not be JKR seeing as I'm like a third her age! O.o Well maybe not. I'll tell you how old I'm on my birthday, (smiles).**

**Holld on…I just realized how to work the thing to get the hits. 335? YOU GUYS! SERIOUSLY! (dies) I don't know to feel happy or apprehensive. Do you guys like it, or hate it so you don't review!**


	4. I Hear Your Voice

**Chapter Four: I Hear Your Voice and I See You Dead**

_Author's Note: Kay. It's been a while. Sorry about that. Like over 8 months of an update...Geez, has highschool gotten to me that much? Review if you want me to update sooner._

**DRACO'S POV**

_(Okay, I'm pretty sure you've noticed by now that the whole DRACO and HARRY POV's aren't ALWAYS or FULLY in their perspectives, but it's in their worlds and I guess that's what I mean…if you get it..)_

Matthew Stephenson woke up to an empty bed. He groaned and sat up from his comfortable position on the bed: spread out on it. He looked around, yawning. No sign of Draco.

"Dray?" He breathed, concern obscuring his mind. Scrambling to his feet, Matt remembered the state Draco had been in last night. He suddenly wished he'd given the boy the lighter. At least Matt wouldn't be worried the blonde would do anything too drastic.

"Draco?" There was now panic evident in both his voice and expression. "Where are you?" His voice was getting louder.

'_I killed her.' _Matt suddenly got a fresh image of his best friend on the tiles of the bathroom, wrists slit and dying in a pool of blood. Trying to shake free of it, he rushed to the bathroom and threw the door open shouting out, "DRACO!"

No one was in there. And it certainly wasn't bloody. Matt whirled around wildly, and threw open the door to the bedroom to find an empty kitchen.

Heart pounding in his head, Matt ran to the front door and unlocked it, running out the open door and down the hall, flying down the stairs and pushing past the hotel person, pushing open the entrance door and ignoring the blast of cold air that stung his face and body. He scanned both sides of the streets for a bleeding desperate blonde-

There. Right there. Not even far. Leaning against the wall of the hotel, and no telling how long he'd been there, soaked to the skin. Matt guessed it'd rained earlier that day. Matt stared at him weakly. He wasn't bleeding. Or crying. Just…there. In a grey shirt and jeans.

"Dray?" He choked out. Draco's eyes flew open to reveal bloodshot sharp grey eyes. He stared at Matt, first in shock and then in confusion. His arms were crossed, tightly against his chest.

"Why are you in your boxers?" His voice was hoarse, broken.

"I freaked." Matt let out a shaky sigh. "What are you doing out here, in the freezing weather? I mean, what time is it?" Matt started to feel angry, and the cold wasn't helping. He didn't know what to say, or what to do. The relief was disappearing.

"I'm going to go grab something to eat. Should I wait for yo-what the fuck!" Draco felt his head slam against the brick wall, and looked at the angry face of his best friend, grabbing and nearly choking him by the collar. Oh god, he knew he'd get a bruise. He was being pulled up by his collar to his tip toes, nearly Matt's height.

"Do you have any idea how scared I was this morning?" Matt whispered harshly, eyes flashing. Draco stared, now having some sort of an idea what Matt must've felt yesterday. "The least you could do is answer my questions."

"Wh-Why would you be scared?" the words tumbled out of Draco's mouth, and he didn't even know why he'd said them.

"Dammit, Draco! You were a wreck last night and this morning I wake up to find you not here, and possibly suffering from withdrawals, what the hell am I supposed to think?" Matt's hot breath brushed against Draco's cold face, and their noses were nearly touching.

"What did you think?" Draco let out in a breath, realizing that his face was really close to his best friends'. Draco would have put his lips to the other boys, just for the fun of it, like the old Draco Malfoy had once done to Blaise Zabini, if he hadn't felt as if he was being strangled.

Abruptly, Matt let go and stepped back, as if guessing the other's thoughts, Draco slumping against the wall and trying to catch his breath. "I don't know what I thought." Matt's sapphire eyes examined the other grey suspicious eyes.

"I needed air." Draco sighed. Matt turned around, ran a hand quickly through his jagged dark brown hair, and started towards the entrance doors for the hotel. Draco quickly followed, slipping through the door behind Matt.

"Go eat; I'll catch up with you." Matt mumbled, walking up the stairs.

"You know we woke up in a really sexy pose?" Matt could tell Draco was smiling a little, trying to lighten up the tension. Draco was like that. Trying to make the other laugh if in a fight, feeling as if Matt would leave him all too easily. He would get angry, but mean nothing he said. Usually.

Right now Draco probably thought Matt was tired of caring for him, and that he wanted to leave him. Draco probably felt stupid, and worthless, and he thought Matt was turning his back on him because Draco was a lost cause. Stupid boy, Matt thought sadly.

"Really?" Matt didn't want to sound too interested. He was still slightly miffed with Draco's actions that morning.

"Yup. Our legs were crossed over each others and my arms were around your waist, me facing your back. I would have been worried, but we were still in our boxers." Draco's pretty face pulled into a smirk. "I wouldn't have been surprised though, after all I _am_ Draco 'sex god' Malfoy."

"Who's ever called you that?" Matt sounded amused as he walked in through the open door of their room.

"You left the door open to come look for me?" Draco sounded interested. "I'm flattered, Mattie."

"Don't call me that." Matt said threateningly. "And don't be too pleased with yourself, I thought you were bleeding and dying somewhere." Matt spat before he could think, still walking fast and not looking over his shoulder at the other boys grey eyes.

Draco didn't reply. Finally he let out a small, "Oh." Draco chewed on his lower lip. "I'm sorry."

Matt turned around sharply, and Draco nearly fell backwards from trying not to walk into him. Matt put his hands on Draco's shoulders. "Don't apologize, okay?" His tone was light, but wavering with something. Matt's gaze was locked with Draco's apprehensive one.

Draco nodded. He opened his mouth to say something when something completely different came out. "The whole Slytherin House called me 'sex god' Malfoy. I'd gone through almost every girl in my house, and nearly half of the others. Except for Gryffindor. Only the pretty ones there."

Matt turned away from Draco's rambling and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He picked up his toothbrush when Draco said something that made him froze.

"Anyways, I don't know why you'd worry about me doing something completely insane, seeing as you're always going to be there, and you'd never give me the chance." Draco let out a small giggle. Matt wondered if Draco even knew what he'd just said.

Once again Draco had nails biting into his shoulder, and a fiery dark brown ocean in front of his face. And once again, the thought of kissing Matt flew through Draco's scattered mind.

"_Don't. Say. That._" Draco felt slightly scared at the intimidating tone. "One day you will be alone, how it happens, I don't know, and you'll have nothing but your thoughts, and you'll want them all to stop and you'll run into the bathroom, pick up a razor, put it to your wrist, and then BAM, the door'll fly open and someone who cares about you will be standing there, and it'll take a moment for what was happening to set in, and she'll cry, and grab it from you, only making you worse." Draco felt the grip on his shoulders lighten, and he tried to lean away, Matt was just short of shouting now. He went on, eyes filling up with desperate tears.

"She'll scream at you for even thinking of trying it, and then she'll tell you that if you'd left then she'd have nothing to deal with, and if you'd want that. You'll start crying, and she'll cry too, saying we could get over it, but we never do and then you leave her, and you decide you never want to see anything that reminded you of your old life ever again. And you know you ruined her, you ruined yourself, and it was all thanks to the fact that Jeff couldn't handle what life was throwing at him, fuck it I hate him!" Draco flinched.

Matt let out a shuddering breath and let go from Draco, stumbling backwards and grabbing onto the doorknob of the bathroom to hold his balance.

Draco stared at his friend who'd he never knew to lose it like that. He was shivering, eyes having that far away look in them, and looking over Draco's shoulder.

"Matt?"

The gaze switched to Draco's.

"Promise me, Dray, that you'll never, ever, put yourself through that." _Or put me through that again._ Draco found himself nodding. Matt sniffed, closed his eyes, breathed in and out, opened his eyes and turned around, shutting the bathroom door behind him. "Go get something to eat. I'll be down in a bit." His muffled voice called out through the door.

Draco nodded, shaking his head a bit and left through the door. _How long had Matt kept that in?_

"Hey Matt? I'll order for you, but once I'm done eating, there's something I've got to do. I'll be at the bar in time for work." He called out loudly so that the other boy could hear.

Matt grunted in reply.

**HARRY'S POV**

_Ugh, was I wasted last night or something? _Was the first thought that flew through Harry Potter's mind when he woke up. His head pounded and he felt disoriented. He groaned and stared at the darkness. It was still dark? Weird. Maybe it's still early.

Harry sat up and looked to his side, blinking and then squinting. Yup, there was Ginny, sleeping dignifiedly. One arm hanging off the bed and her mouth pressed against the pillow, a dark spot around her mouth. Drool. Her other hand was under the pillow, and her red hair was pretty much everywhere.

She really was beautiful, even when like this. But Harry suddenly wondered if he really did love her, at least as much as he had once. Harry used his hand to feel around on the end table beside him in search for his glasses.

Once he'd got them, he put them on his nose and pushed them up, yawning. He really did need to get contacts, or magic, or something done with his eyes. Harry found himself staring at Ginny again.

_Did she love him? Or was it just an act to keep Harry happy? Or was the lust and love over now, the need for the boy who lived in the world gone? Or was it his money?_

The gorgeous redhead let out a grunt, mumbled something and turned her head over. She mumbled something else and this time the word, 'Harry' was audible.

Fine, she was dreaming about him. _She still loves you._

For some reason this made Harry tired all over again.

But he found his body pulling out of bed and up to his feet, hand scratching the back of his neck.

He looked up at the clock hanging above the doors to their chambers. Four o'clock.

_Go to freakin' sleep._

No, his body wouldn't listen to his mind's reason. His hand pushed the doors, and let it shut behind him, now standing alone in the hallway.

_Now what? You were so consistent on getting out here, and now you've nothing to do._

I'll get a drink. His feet took him to the stairs and he went down the steps, mind barely thinking. He felt dead. On his feet. His lips twitched.

Oh great. Minister of Magic goes insane.

He was pouring himself of glass of vodka now standing in the dark kitchen. The bottle had been on the counter, the glass beside it. Waiting for him. He started to bring the glass to his lips when-

"_Who died?" _

Harry shuddered so feverishly and unexpectedly, and the glass fell from his fingers, falling with a crash on the marble floor, the noise echoing throughout the whole house. The contents spilled forth but Harry barely felt the wetness surrounding his feet.

His hands clutched the edge of the table, trying not to shake. He didn't succeed, and his hands were almost going numb from grabbing onto the table so hard. He didn't even notice his breath was coming out in jagged breaths, but that one thought that had sounded itself so loudly as if it'd come from Malfoy's lips in that very room, ran itself over and over in Harry's mind.

_Minister of Magic snaps._

Hot tears were rolling down Harry's ashen face, and he stared determinedly at the sink, trying not to remember. Not to blink.

Not to cry.

Had Malfoy actually got to him? Even when he hadn't meant to?

_You're frail. Fragile. A breeze of air could get to you._

Harry unclamped his grip from the table and staggered back. So delicate and weak, he was now. If only the world knew. How they'd laugh.

Harry felt something stinging in his palms and realized his fingernails were cutting into his upper palms, fists clenched into balls.

He unclenched them and turned them to him, palms upwards. The blood slowly slipped down his palm. He watched the red drop hit the pretty white marble floor. He let his gaze pull itself to the vodka, still there.

He needed to get out of there.

"_Who died?"_

Harry shuddered, and the two words repeated themselves ominously over and over around in the room. Harry couldn't handle it-

"SH-SHUT UP! THEY ALL DID!" The words came out from Harry's mouth in a desperate shout. His voice echoed overlapping the two previous words.

"_Did you kill them?"_ This was quieter, but still every word hit from one wall to the other, and Harry's head hurt, spinning terribly.

Harry tasted salty water on his lips, and then realized his face was wet from the tears he didn't know he'd cried. He thought he hadn't cried.

His back was against the wall now, and he sunk to his bottom, his knees pulling to his chests and his arms surrounding them. He stared at the table.

"_Did you kill them?" _Louder, more firm.

Harry was sobbing now. Loudly, and he knew it. His vision was blurred, and even if he could see, his glasses were stained with his tears.

Remus, Kingsley, almost all the orders, half of the Weasley boys, almost all his professors at Hogwarts. Remus Lupin.

"_Did you..?"_

He'd killed them all.

"Y-Yes." Harry gasped, shivering even worse now.

"_So I killed her?"_

Harry found himself shaking his head, tears soaking his chest, his boxers. "N-No, Malfoy. I k-killed them all."

Harry's head hurt, his eyes burned, and his throat felt as if it was being torn apart.

He didn't know when he'd let himself fall asleep, but soon all the thoughts stopped, and there was only darkness.

**A/N: Ah, I had to fit in the angst somewhere. But I think I drove the Minister of Magic sort of crazy. Oops, my bad. I'll work on fixing him.  
**


	5. Are You Crazy?

**Chapter Five: Are You Crazy?**

A/N: Draco/Harry. If you haven't got it by now, then I don't know when you will.

_Warning: Angst._

**DRACO'S POV**

Draco handed over the few sickles and took the small object, clutching it tightly in his hand. He started walking, as far as he could from the store that sold all the muggle stuff. He walked until his feet wanted to give away and he knew he was as far as he could be from his best friend.

In the middle of a forest? Had he even been looking where he'd been going?

Stupid question. He'd been so eager to get away he didn't think he know now how to get back.

Whatever. He had what he needed to survive.

He put his hand into his other pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes. He'd only bought it yesterday. A pack of 24. There were four left.

His hand was shaking slightly as he pulled out one, and then used the red lighter in his other hand to light it. But he didn't let go. He stared at the small slightly bluish fire, his cigar still burning in his other hand.

He stared, stared, and then before he'd even knew he was doing it-

"What the fuck! Ouch!" Draco dropped the lighter, and the spark disappeared. Draco put the cigarette into between his lips and then examined the small burn he'd so stupidly made on his other finger. What the hell had he done that for?

Draco groaned, it hurt and burned. And it was red. He knew it would probably get black or something. Perfect.

And Matt, noticing everything, would want to know how that'd happened.

'I burnt myself with a lighter I bought after you confiscated the other one from me..'

Smart.

Ah well, it wasn't the pain that bothered Draco. It sort of distracted Draco. Like the cigarette. His uninjured hand went to the cigarette and he inhaled, breathing out and pulling it away. He bent over and picked up the lighter He put the cigarette back into his mouth and then focused his attention on the matter at hand. He clicked the lighter.

The fire was back. Again some force was pulling his hand to the other one, but this time to the other finger. He didn't feel the burn at once, this time. So he held it to his thumb, then his index, skipped his middle seeing it was already burnt and red, and went to his ring finger. He did the same with the other hand and ended on the second pinkie, and then let go of the lighter, slipping it back into his pocket.

After a moment or two, whereas Draco nearly finished the cigarette he'd been smoking, the fingers started to burn, slightly and then started throbbing painfully.

Draco took out the cigarette with his now aching fingers and dropped it on the floor. He put out the cigarette with his shoe and put his fingers in his mouth, the middle one first seeing as it hurt the most. He decided that if he walked in a straight line in the direction he'd come, he'd be back to civilization in no time.

Concentrating on the pain, Draco started on his walk back. He hoped that this wouldn't become addicting. He snorted. Addicted to pain? Pfft, as if.

**HARRY'S POV**

Ginny Weasley woke up, staring at the wall to her side. She smiled, not turning around. "Harry, I had the sweetest dream. You bought me my very own world and we lived there. It had blue clouds, Harry."

No reply.

That's odd. Harry was usually a very light sleeper. Ginny turned around her mouth open, when she noticed the empty side of the bed.

Not again.

She was on her feet in no time, rushing to the doors and pushing it open, hurrying down the stairs. "Harry?" Her voice wasn't as loud as she'd hoped it'd be.

"Harry, tell me you're still-" Her fingers turned on the lights to the kitchen and she froze.

Ginny gaped at her fiancé, in a ball against the wall, surrounded by vodka that was slightly darker then it should be. His boxers looked wet, and his face tear stricken. There were drops of blood on his boxers.

"Harry?" She breathed, wanting to run to him, but not able to move from where she stood in the hallway. Harry groaned and turned his head up, eyes opening and looking at Ginny groggily.

Ginny let out a small gasp. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked nearly dead. He looked as if he were dying.

Why hadn't she noticed before? What sort of person was she?

"Harry?" Her voice came out high, and her chin trembled.

Harry blinked a couple times, and put his hands to his face, rubbing some sleep from his eyes. There were drops of red liquid on his face, where he'd rubbed his face. His skin was white. Dead white. Ginny was suddenly filled with guilt, sympathy, and a wanting to make Harry all better.

"Gin?" He yawned and looked around for something to grab to pull himself up by.

Ginny was now at his side, not knowing how she'd got there, her hand out for him. Harry looked at her. And then at her hand.

He took it, hesitantly, and let himself be pulled up. Ginny turned his hand over, looking at his wrist. Harry looked at her scanning his wrist, confused.

"What are you doing?" His voice was hoarse. Ginny's eyes snapped up into Harry's hollow green ones.

"Where were you bleeding?" The words said themselves.

"My palm Ginny, why were you-" Harry suddenly cut himself off, face darkening slightly. "Oh."

Ginny looked up at him sharply and felt his hand wrenched from her grip abruptly.

"Harry, you don't understand-" She started in despair-

"No I understand. You thought I was slicing myself up here, and of course it would make sense. I mean, it's about time the boy who lived did. After witnessing and being the cause of so many deaths he had to soon c-"

"Harry shut up. I'm supposed to worry, okay?" Ginny's fiery eyes were shining brightly now. She noticed Harry's were too, behind his glasses.

"I mean, you couldn't even ask? Just assume-" Harry couldn't go on. His voice gave away.

Harry didn't say anything but tore his eyes from the others'. _Run away before you drown._

"Sorry for worrying you." He muttered.

"No, Harry, I'm sorry. It's just that you've been so-"

"I know, I know. I came down for a drink. That's all."

Ginny eyed the spill. "Didn't get it, did you?"

Harry let out a dry laugh. "Second time."

"Hmm?" Ginny looked up at him curiously.

"Nothing, just the second drink I've wasted."

"Oh." Ginny didn't say anything.

_I just realized how much I hate silence._

"I'm going to go out." Harry suddenly said.

"Let's go out and eat then!" Ginny said, grinning.

"I.." _meant alone. _But Ginny looked so hopeful. Fine. "I think that's a great idea."

"I'll make some tea, and you can go change or something and then I will." Harry shrugged and nodded. He went up the stairs.

Once finished in the bathroom, he went to the bedroom and then glanced at the phone. He stared at the red light that showed Ginny was obviously talking to someone. He bit on his lower lip.

Who was Ginny talking to at...a quick glance at the clock told him it was only 8am.

The phone was in his hand. And now on his ear, listening.

"-And I just felt so terrible. What should I do?"

"Keep a close watch on him, Ginny. He's worrying me too."

"He…He won't do it, will he? I mean.."

"Harry's delicate enough to-"

_DELICATE?!_

Harry slammed the phone down, knowing Ginny and Hermione would know now he'd been listening on. The phone bounced from pressure and fell out of his place, hanging. Harry didn't hear the voice calling out in it.

Now Ginny would be distraught he'd been listening on in her calls.

WHO CARED?!

AFTER ALL IT HAD BEEN HIM THEY'D BEEN TALKING ABOUT!

There were footsteps up the stairs now. The door flew open to reveal a livid Ginny.

Now what the fuck did she have to look pissed off about?

"HARRY! YOU WERE EAVESDROPPING!"

"IT'S MY FUCKING HOUSE, BITCH, I CAN EAVESDROP!" Harry shouted back without thinking.

Ginny's mouth fell shut. She stared at him with tears quickly filling up her eyes. That was the first time Harry'd said something so vulgar, directed right at her. That was the first time he'd gotten the same rage in his eyes he'd had when he heard on the battleground that Lucious Malfoy had killed Bill. Directed at her. What was happening to her Harry?

Harry passed a quick hand over his face. _I'm not delicate._

_I killed Voldemort for fuck's sakes. Could they have done that?_

But you're delicate now.

Delicate.

He pulled on a shirt from the top of the dresser, his hair messy from the force he'd used to shove his head in it. He quickly grabbed a pair of pants from the open drawers and pushed his feet in them, feeling Ginny's worried and shocked gaze watching his every move.

"Harry, please. I'm sorry but I don't kn-"

"For what?" Harry snorted. "Talking about me? Or yelling at me? Or thinking I'm deranged and you don't know what to do with me? Or thinking that I'm going to go slice myself up and throw myself off a cliff? For not trusting me, or knowing that you're supposed to talk to me about these things, instead of rushing off to Hermione!" He didn't know a word that passed through his mouth.

Ginny was shaking now, and when Harry looked up, he saw the tears let go and slip down her beautiful unblemished face.

"Harry-I was worried."

"Because I'm so delicate?" Harry did his pants and started towards her. "Because the boy who lived is bound to crack one day, and Ginny Weasley thinks he just did. Aren't I correct?" Harry whispered, eyes narrowing, pulling a mask back over him.

"Harry, where are you going to-what are you going to do?"

**CRACK**

Harry whirled around at the sound of someone being Apparated. Hermione Granger stood there, a wireless phone in her hand, pressed against her ear. She looked surprised at being there, but then defiance made itself known to her face.

"Harry, I want to explain-"

"I don't need two people explaining something I already know! This is ridiculous, Granger." Harry exclaimed, glaring at his best friend, and then turning to stare down his fiancée. "I need to get out of here." He muttered under his breath, and then roughly pushed past Ginny, who stumbled to a side.

"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione and Ginny were calling after him.

He was running down the hallway, flying down the stairs, his wandless magic throwing the front door open and the Minister of Magic ran out the door, sprinting for as long as he possibly could.

* * *

**A/N: Hehe, I said it once, and I'll say it again. I'm killing JKR's hard work! And it's never been so much fun. I hope it doesn't suck. Love you all, and hope I get reviews.**


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